


What New Robes Will Do

by SumthinClever



Series: Drarropoly 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pining Draco Malfoy, Smitten Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumthinClever/pseuds/SumthinClever
Summary: There's nothing like a new set of custom tailored robes, especially when others notice them.
Series: Drarropoly 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033458
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	What New Robes Will Do

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1: There's nothing like a new set of custom tailored robes, especially when others notice them.

Draco admired himself in his bedroom mirror. The Ministry Gala started in an hour and he intended to get there at least an hour late. The fact that he had to make an entrance went without saying.

His mother would have fainted in shock and embarrassment if she ever found out he was wearing robes tailored by Madam Malkin’s to a Ministry function, but Draco didn’t think the old bird had done too bad for herself with his garments. And in any case, Draco had only wandered into the shop because he noticed a certain Scarheaded war hero in there and Draco had wanted to be seen. The fact that they’d briefly chatted and Harry had admitted he was procuring robes for the upcoming Ministry Gala had Draco (nervously) proclaiming he was in the shop doing likewise, a lie he had to make good on lest Harry suspect he was stalking him (Draco would _never._ Wanting to be seen did _not_ count.).

But he couldn’t regret the lie. The robes were immaculate. The cut was exquisite and fit him like a glove, showing off a physique he hadn’t lost even despite his lack of Quidditch training these days. Being an in-demand Potions Master didn’t leave a lot of time for flying, however much Draco missed it.

The robes’ color was also flattering, being a shimming gray that complemented his eyes and made his blond hair appear even shinier than usual. Draco made quite a picture, if he did say so himself, and he always said so.

Draco fussed with his hair (perfect) and the fall of his robes (also perfect) while he awaited the time to leave. He wouldn’t admit to nerves, even if he was feeling them. Nerves were for the incompetent or those not fully confidence in their skills. They were plebian.

Draco was confident. He _knew_ he looked good, flawless even. He had witches and wizards throwing themselves at his robe hems left and right, attracted by his title or his wealth or his charms. And yet the only one Draco had any interest in attracting was not pulled in by his allure.

The Golden Boy dodged attachments just as much as Draco drew them. Draco did not throw himself at Harry. He would never lower himself to such a pitiful state. But if he happened to… be where Harry was…slightly more than was natural, well, he could hardly be blamed for _existing_ , now could he?

Did he need to be in the Ministry breakroom at the same time Harry usually took lunch? Well he had to eat, too, didn’t he? And if he ventured down to the café and randomly picked up one of those disgusting treacle tarts that Harry liked, well, it was only friendly to take the extra pastry to Harry and share a quick word.

And they were friendly. Draco would even hazard to say they were friends. But he couldn’t help it if he wanted more. So much more. Harry was…indescribably beautiful to him. Draco wasn’t even sure _why_.

Like, sure there were the piercing green eyes that were as remarkable for their depth of color as much as for their range of expression. But there was also that perpetual bedhead that looked like it never encountered a comb in all of its 25 years on earth.

Sure, there were the lean muscles that Harry had started to acquire when he took up an intense exercise regimen in Auror training and continued even after he’d switched careers to Spell Development. But there was also that chipped tooth from a nasty encounter he’d had with a criminal during an Auror bust a few years back.

Draco enumerated Harry’s deficiencies to himself and found himself becoming enamored even with those.

 _Dammit_ , Draco cursed. He really was bloody besotted. He cast a quick Tempus and cursed again. He’d gotten lost in his musings and was already an hour and a half late to the gala and was risking being uncouth late rather than fashionably late. Draco wanted to make an entrance, not a faux pas.

He twisted on the spot and Apparated to the entrance hall of the ballroom. It was deserted so he paused to collect himself, making sure he hadn’t upset his hair or his robes. Draco schooled his features into his characteristic nonchalance and casually made his way into the room.

The people closest to the door paused in their dancing to watch his entrance and stare at his magnificent robes. Draco only let the tiniest smirk grace his face as he walked deeper into the room.

Harry was making his way through some of the revelers and stopped when he spotted Draco. His eyes lit up when he saw Draco and he made his way over, smiling his perfect, crooked smile when he reached him.

“Draco, _your robes_.”

 _Yes_ , thought Draco, _nothing like a new set of custom-tailored robes_.

" _Harry_."


End file.
